This was a few weeks ago now, but I thought you might get a kick out of this glimpse into our daily lives. (This is one of those stories I meant to tell you, but then couldn't remember when I sat down to type.)
I think it was 2 Mondays ago...I went to pick the kids up from Nicole's, and in conversation I asked how the kids were that day. "Meagan was horrible," Nicole says. She went on to explain that at lunch she wouldn't eat her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and in fact, she chewed it up and spit it out all over. She screamed and yelled. She woke the babies up at nap time, and she bucked all day about the potty. Lovely. It was a Meagan day, to put it mildly.
That night for dinner, I ordered Applebee's for Lucas and me. The kids all wanted PB&J, so I made them sandwiches instead of ordering them something (way cheaper that way anyway). Even though Meagan had made such a fuss at lunch about PBJ, she asked for one for dinner. So that's what I made her.
She started out good. She took a few bites of sandwich without incident. Somewhere along the way, however, she decided she wanted her sandwich cut into 4 pieces instead of 2. I explained it was already cut, but she insisted, so I cut her 2 rectangles into 4 squares. Oh, that's when it all started! She screamed at the top of her lungs, 'NO YOU BROKE IT!! FIX IT! PUT IT BACK!!' Are you kidding me?! She went on for a few seconds, until I got her attention and told her to knock it off. Clearly not in the mood for authority, she took her stand. In a matter of seconds, she had peeled her sandwich apart (so the peanut butter and the jelly were exposed), and threw both pieces across the room. They stuck flat on the kitchen floor. I whipped her up out of the chair and marched her straight over to pick them up. She bucked and threw herself backwards and screamed and yelled, and ultimately got herself a 'consequence.' Finally, she appeared to have given up her struggle. She bent down and reached for the sandwich. BUT, when her hand got about an inch from the bread, she froze. I could see the wheels turning in her two-year-old brain, and clearly, they were turning in the WRONG direction. She paused, stood up, turned and looked me straight in the eyes. And then she crossed her arms and STOMPED on her sandwich, smashing it onto the floor.
Needless to say, there were more consequences for her actions. When all was said and done, however, she picked up her sandwich, sat down, and actually ate the sandwich that she had just picked up off the floor (her idea, not mine...I just wanted her to pick it up). She finished dinner without another word or another step out of line. Lucas joked that I had tamed the beast, but, WOW, that child has a will about her! (I'm thinking of lending her to a pregnancy prevention program! I think she would be an effective tool! What do you think? LOL!)